gladiators of Peace

Status: Finished

gladiators of Peace

Status: Finished

gladiators of Peace

Poem by: steven cooke


Genre: Poetry




In tribute to our athletes



In tribute to our athletes


Submitted: August 05, 2012

A A A | A A A


Submitted: August 05, 2012



To breath the dream of gladiator sweat

Is to take your fear and drown it with courage.

Though heart it would burst,

the mind cannot turn.

The gold is the prize

 and destiny belongs to you.



To be the best is not enough

chivalry demands your conduct

and honour is given to the vanquished

for you are an Olympian.



The body is your temple

desire is your ambition.

The lungs that carry this quest,

that Olympus gave the world

will make you a god for a day.



The recipe is simple,

take the glory of youth

these first buds of spring.

Season their first step with a lesson

defeat is your companion,

but “I will” is your power

and the hurdles of life will fall.



Mind over body is your strength

perfection and grace your goal,

only gods ignore the pain when limbs say enough.

You who pour your being into peddle and water

and tame the wind with sail.



 The loneliness of speed, the endurance of marathon

the silence of target and the release of flight

will take your soul to the edge

of an impossible dream.



And the years that you give

waiting for harmony to arrive,

will define the mountain you climb.

The world has chosen you

to be a gladiator of our time.


And privilege is for mortals who watch

to share the emotion of them.

In this moment our blood is one

for they are no longer alone.

We will win together

we will lose together

and honour will wipe our tears.



And when the arena is empty

the memory will be

“I was there”

To see the spirit of this earth.



The voice of nations cheering as one

our differences celebrated

Within the glory of these Olympics.



Strangers brought together

arm in arm within these rings.

The hand of friendship has crossed the seas,

respect is the legacy

for Neighbours now are we.



And when our children look up

to ask why we cheer and cry

we will plant the dream,

that these are your brothers and sisters,

 tomorrow you will play with them.



And should you fall

 the voice of country will pick you up

this flag will endure your trials

for victory belongs to you,

and the tears of pride belong to me.

A mere mortal who was honoured

to witness your Olympian dream.


















© Copyright 2016 steven cooke. All rights reserved.

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